


Caught in the game

by Frehior



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Canon Compliant, Conversations, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, How Do I Tag, Implied Relationships, Light Angst, M/M, Nea has a rude/defensive attitude, Other, Tyki Mikk is in love, character exploration, or so I want to think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:01:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25781029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frehior/pseuds/Frehior
Summary: Tyki had taken a bite bigger than he could chew. He had simply wanted Allen Walker to take a break — have a good night sleep that he surely hadn’t had for weeks.He didn’t quite expect to meet with the devil lurking inside Walker’s mind, nor did he expect the hostility of The Fourteenth who had seemed to catch him in his own game./ Set before Johnny and Kanda join Allen while he is on the run.
Relationships: Joyd/Nea D. Campbell (alluded), Nea D. Campbell & Tyki Mikk, Tyki Mikk & Allen Walker, Tyki Mikk/Allen Walker
Comments: 7
Kudos: 99





	Caught in the game

Tyki takes quick notice of the evident exhaustion on the street performer’s expression. Much as the make up covers it, he knows there should be dark rings forming under the silver eyes that have captivated him for a while now. The red make up on the lower side of the performer's face doesn’t make up for the smile that isn’t as lively as Tyki remembers it. Not that he will blame the clown for it, considering his runaway status.

He stands on the balcony of the inn he’s staying at as he observes the performance across the street, lazily enjoying his cigarette. The only reason he had bothered to stay was due to the chance of encountering Allen Walker, and because he wasn’t in the mood to stay around his family at the time. He longed to see the Exorcist that had escaped him when he’d left to drive away Apocryphos.

Blowing away the smoke, he idly thinks of how ungrateful Allen is to him; not with any real grudge behind the thought, but the idea of the boy turning away from him once again made something sit heavy on his chest. He just wasn’t sure what that emotion was or why did the boy’s distance aroused such reaction.

It wasn’t like there was a reason for the boy to trust him, considering their shared history — considering they were enemies; though such label for their relationship doesn’t sit well with Tyki. He liked to think that there was something else to their relationship, something beyond being Noah and Exorcist. He liked to think that there was something between the person that was Tyki Mikk and Allen Walker. That their "White Sides" could have bonded over menial things. He wasn’t delusional, though, and knew that as much as both seemed to keep both sides of the coin in their lives, their differences caused a rift that was impossible to bridge. At least for now.

As the performance comes to an end, Tyki puts his cigarette out, straightening and not letting his eyes stray from the boy that was now packing his props. 

This time he wouldn’t let Allen Walker out of his reach.

* * *

Knowing the boy can only go so far without relying on the Ark or his Innocence’s useful belts, Tyki follows him at his leisure.

The Noah Memory within him aches when he remembers his encounter with Crown Clown's renewed powers. He huffs and lets his hand slide into the pockets of his slacks. No need to get excited at the prospect of a fight when he had no desire to carry through, more interested in seeing Allen again. The young boy’s hair has certainly grown since the last time he’s seen him, obvious in the short ponytail that he wears that Tyki now sees as he observes Allen's back.

From this distance, he can only see Walker turn to talk to the gold golem that is perched on his shoulder, smile tired as his cursed hand pats it. The golem flaps its wings energetically, before taking off. Tyki tips his top hat to cover himself as the golem flies above him.

If he got the boy for himself, all the better. That gold ball could certainly be an issue. Tyki wasn't sure what functions did it have, and wasn't looking forward to finding out right now.

The boy reaches the escarpment stairs that leads to a lower level in the town, and Tyki pauses in his step as he lets him descend before following. He lingers, part of him wondering if the boy's noticed him. The stairs connecting both levels of the town are flanked by tall buildings, essentially blocking any way of escaping on both sides. Tyki considers the approach to take, aware the boy still has a route of escape in front of him and above if he activates his Innocence.

Walker's taken to sit mid-way, slumping against the wall and letting his luggage rest on the next step bellow him. _He's letting his guard down_. Tyki figures he's sent the golem as a watchdog while he takes a break.

_Perfect_.

As he approaches the unsuspecting Exorcist with light steps, he reminds himself that he’s not nearing a defenseless prey, but rather an able predator that has been able to match Tyki’s strength. The Noah stops a few steps under Allen and he looks over his shoulders to gauge the young man’s reaction.

Finding the soft features of a seemingly asleep boy is not what he expects, but he doesn’t break the spell Walker’s put on him. He stares longer than he oughts to.

“If you’re planning to sneak on me, Mikk, I suggest you move along.”

The words come unexpected, more so the usage of his last name. Tyki blinks, dumbfounded, and lets a laugh wash away the pain that comes when he realizes the distance Walker’s putting between them by his words.

“However would I sneak if I’ve been caught?”

“The best ambush would lie hidden in plain sight.”

Taking note of the lack of fight in the Exorcist’s behavior, Tyki goes ahead and takes seat next to him, elated when the other doesn’t even budge from his place due to their closeness.

“Don’t think too low of me, boy.”

“It’s Allen.”

Foregoing the correction of his name, Tyki lets his arm rest on his knee, cheek on hand. “That’s the name you give when you perform?”

There’s a stagnant silent that grows with the seconds, and Allen seems to debate the answer that he will give, if he decides to give one at all.

“No.” Its what he settles with.

Tyki hums, eyes still glued to the face that now bears a light frown. He notices the redness still visible around Allen’s lips due to the poorly done job of cleaning his makeup, a few white streaks making his already pale skin more pale.

After a dragged silence in which neither speak more, it’s obvious the boy grows more uncomfortable by the second, his features twisting in a scowl as a grunt of annoyance builds itself on the back of his throat. For his part, Tyki doesn't mind the shared silence, enjoying the boy's company even if quiet. 

“What do you want, Tyki?” He snaps, peeking a look to the man through his lashes. The serene expression on the older man combined with a lighthearted smile annoys him further.

“You look tired.”

“Want to take a wild guess at whose fault’s that?”

“Yours.”

Allen springs away from the wall he’s leaning into, an angry expression that lacks all heat directed towards Tyki. The Noah’s smile stretches more, recognizing the action to be a tantrum, similar to the ones Road would throw when Tyki antagonized her purposefully but with no ill-will.

“Well, you did ask. And it _is_ your fault, to some extend, Mr. Runaway.” He’s delighted to see the effect of his words on the boy, a small twitch appearing on the corner of his eyes as his nostrils flare. “How about spending a night with me?”

The question takes Allen off guard, and he splutters an unintelligible response, cheeks taking a faint pink color. The reaction endears Tyki.

“What are you even implying, Noah?” He asks with narrowed eyes.

“That I want you to take a real night’s sleep. When was last time you had that?”

It feels right. The casual level in which Tyki addresses his enemy, his acquaintance. A part of him longs for interactions like these with the boy. He can imagine himself teasing him and riling him up as a friend would, but also properly speaking to him, exchange topics and stories. It’s only wishful thinking, he knows, and he doesn’t know where it comes from, but it feels almost attainable in moments like this, when they are not willing to spill the other’s blood.

“None of your business.” Comes the curt response, and Tyki huffs, not bothering to hide his amusement or smugness. This, of course, is not taken kindly by the Exorcist, whose hand is already reaching for his luggage’s handle.

“I have no interest in you or the Fourteenth for now, boy.” The distrust is instant in the silver eyes, and Tyki feels inexplicably wounded but doesn’t show so. Trying to persuade the boy to trust him _(even if just a little)_ he adds, "I’m hunting down that Apocry-freak. He owes me that much.” He shows both hands to Allen, faint scars on his hands where the Sentient Innocence had pierced through his skin.

Ever since that accident his Noah Memory had become incredibly restless. The Innocence touching upon the stigmata that had appeared after the failed attempt at exorcism by the boy in front of him only fueling his Noah's anger and hate for the cursed substance.

Even if barely, some tension leaves off Allen’s shoulder.

"Did it hurt...?" He asks, and his human hand reaches to Tyki's, thumb caressing the scar that refuses to fade.

The worry Allen manages to feel, even when it comes to his enemy, has Tyki's breath catching in his throat for a moment. There's something so magnetic to the boy’s gentle touch, as if Tyki's hands hadn't been the means of countless heinous acts. As if, in spite of everything, Allen still sees him for who he is, still sees the humanity that many refuse to acknowledge.

"Like a bitch."

Allen seems to snap out of himself at the cuss word. He frowns with a smile, as if disapproving his choice of words but not being able to scold him for them.

“What do you gain from offering me shelter, Tyki?”

He loves the way his name falls from those lips, and wishes he could bring him to call his name in a string of nonsensical words and something more. Tyki suppresses the pleasure that he finds himself seeking. He's not _that_ delusional, and knows nothing physical would develop past a certain boundary. The boy wasn't like that. _He wasn't like that_ , the thoughts feeling intrusive and foreign to his own.

Joyd ought to be having a field day with the conflicting and unnamed emotions he harbors for Walker — with all the pleasures Tyki seeks when he's in the boy's company.

Regardless, the boy's awaiting an answer and Tyki gives him one off the top of his head.

“Nothing.”

Silver eyes pierce him as they harden. He’d obviously given the wrong answer, but he can't deny that his answer is truthful. He'd gain nothing but the so much desired company of the boy, the sense of familiarity that washed over him every time they came together. So maybe he would gain that which was denied under normal circumstances on the battlefield, but that didn't further any of his goals, didn't contribute to the Earl's plans — it did, however, soothe Tyki's hunger and desire to have Allen Walker close, and it gave him pleasure to know and see the boy behaving friendly around him, something he'd found himself longing after experiencing it in their first encounter.

"Give me a reason. I can't just believe that." Allen says, and Tyki rolls his eyes at the boy's reluctance to accept Tyki's sincere feelings.

"Uh, well. How about I wish to feel the pleasure of fighting you in top condition?" Tyki tries, reaching for straws.

He doesn’t bring up the fact he wants the boy to get some rest, that a part of Tyki is worried about him, of the exhaustion that is obvious even on the smile he wears.

He omits that he’s come to care for the boy, foolish as that is.

The Exorcist's eyes seem to soften, but the distrust is still evident. He's wary of his intentions, and Tyki can't blame him for that. Even so, he's happy to see Walker less judgmental of his reasonings.

He bites back the warmth that tries to sneak to him by bringing Joyd’s emotions to the table. “And, our battles haven’t been properly finished.” He says, shoulders rising to look as noncommittal as possible, eyes fixing themselves to the Exorcist’s. "Joyd got in the way back in the Ark—“

“I won.”

“— and the North America Branch was more of a scuffle than an actual fight. Too many distractions happening at once to give you my undivided attention.” He doesn’t miss the narrowing of Allen’s eyes for a moment at his phrasing nor the emphasis he puts on ‘ _you_ ’, but the boy doesn’t comment on his choice of words.

“You’re telling me you want me rested because you want to _fight me?_ ” Allen asks, sounding incredulous, obviously fishing for the ulterior motive Tyki has but refuses to show.

Of course Tyki’s not going to show all his cards just yet, not when the boy hasn’t even announced his participation in the game he’s about to play. The scrutinizing gaze only makes him try again.

“Well, you did ask me for a reason. And, I haven’t met my match in poker. Apart from you, that is.” He teases, one hand taking a deck of cards from his suit.

Allen laughs, and the sound startles Tyki, who looks at the boy’s laughing face, unsure on how to react, unsure what that means — but completely swept off his feet by how sincere it sounds. There’s that aching inside him again.

“You’re a lost case, Tyki.” He wipes a tear from the corner of his eye, and Tyki feels relief flood him, feels his muscles relax from letting go of the tension that had been plaguing them ever since deciding to approach the boy. He lets out a chuckle of his own.

“That I am. Say, dare to entertain me?” 

The offer is there, extended much like Tyki’s deck. It’s up to Allen if he dares take it or not. There’s hesitation behind gray eyes. There’s a moment where a hand reaches out for the deck, but ultimately its drawn back. Tyki hopes his dismay doesn’t show, hopes the let down of the action doesn’t reflect on his eyes, on the way his smile twitches for a beat.

But when he’s about to put the deck back in his suit, Allen's hand reaches out again, a blinding smile on his features, the guarded stance he’d kept leaving him, if only for now. 

Tyki ignores the way his heart flutters against his chest at how sincere the smile is, how grateful the silver irises look when Allen seems to accept that Tyki means no harm. He feels overjoyed, and this time he knows he’s failed to hide his emotions behind a carefully construed expression.

* * *

Tyki leads him back to the inn he’s staying, and Allen recognizes the venue to be where he had been performing not long ago. He regards Tyki with suspicion.

“Were you watching?” He asks, but his tone doesn’t betray his emotions, and Tyki finds himself feeling awkward at being found out.

“Happened to do so as I went to take a smoke on the balcony.”

Allen looks at him cheekily, and a sly smile makes its way, “You know, I happen to charge for my performance. It’s not free.”

Tyki snorts, rolling his eyes. “I’d pay if it was a private performance, boy. It’s only fair that if I give you my undivided attention, you do the same.”

The Noah doesn’t linger on how the words come out, but they seem to bother Walker enough for him to drop the subject, a small flush creeping on his cheeks. Tyki takes notice of the hesitation that arises in his fidgeting.

“Calm down, will you? Like I said, I have no interest in you at the moment.”

There’s an accusatory gaze that’s directed at him, but Allen doesn’t say anything on the matter.

“Besides, misery loves company, right?”

“I’m not—”

“But I am.” The arching of a white brow is all he gets, but he’s grateful the boy doesn’t press the matter further and gives it a rest. “And, I’m itching to beat you at poker. You can’t have a lucky streak forever, boy.”

A darker smile different to the one that he’d usually wear twists Allen's lips, and Tyki can see the mischievous glint on his eyes, the silent ‘ _You’re on_ ’ that clearly indicates the challenge that’s been accepted.

The energy mellows out as they travel their way back to Tyki’s room. By the time they arrive Allen's exhaustion has won, eyes fluttering as they struggle to stay open. It becomes impossibly obvious when Tyki fumbles to open the door, the boy swaying in his spot behind Tyki, forehead knocking into his back a couple times followed by a mumbled apology.

When he invites the Exorcist in, the boy doesn’t lose time to set down his luggage and discard his coat over it, going straight to take a seat at the edge of Tyki’s bed near the headboard.

“Tyki.” Allen calls out, tone slurred. “Promise me that… if the Noah inside me comes out… you’ll stop him…”

The petition comes out of the blue, but Tyki can understand where it comes from.

After regaining consciousness in the aftermath of his exorcism, he’d dreaded being alone with his thoughts, dreaded closing his eyes for fear of what Joyd would show him once he drifted to sleep; he dreaded the thought of Joyd’s Memory taking over his. After some painful dreams, he would wake up feeling a stranger in his own body — he guessed it was no different with Walker. A pang strings his heart down a painful memory and new-found sympathy for the troubled boy.

While Tyki had had the support of his family when he had been struggling to suppress Joyd’s Noah Memory, Allen Walker was by his own, refusing to stay near those he might hurt or those who might hurt him. Self-sacrificing fool he was. Nevertheless, Tyki had decided to be a beacon where the other Noah weren’t. If Allen Walker ever decided to accept their invitation — Tyki’s invitation —, he would make sure to be the bond within the Noah clan that anchored Allen’s memory and self.

Though he’s not without guilt himself, curious to know what drives The Fourteenth. He wants to question The Pianist, pull from him whatever history the Earl, Road and Wisely refuse to reveal. He doesn’t say as much, though, mindful of the fragile truce they’ve stablished. Instead, he nods, humming his answer but not voicing it out.

All it takes is the time Tyki takes to put his suit and hat over a spare chair for Allen’s head to be resting against the headboard, eyes closed and chest rising and falling.

The Noah of Pleasure feels flattered at the vulnerability and trust he shows. But he wants the white-haired boy to rest, not wake up with a sore neck.

He nudges him awake, warning him against sleeping in that position. Allen simply moans in protest. Feeling the soft spot he’s had for the boy kick in, he shakes his head and ventures to the bathroom to get a wet rag. The traces of make up on the boy’s face had to go, he’s decided.

Tyki notices he is fast asleep when he returns, but at least he has laid down.

Silently chiding the boy’s lack of etiquette by laying down on his dirty clothes, he gently dabs the wet cloth against the soft skin of the boy, insisting on the action where the makeup refuses to yield.

A quiet noise escapes Allen’s mouth, and Tyki later makes out a faint thanks as those gray eyes look at him through a haze. The Noah simply offers a soft smile in return, before setting the rag down and pulling the bedsheets to cover Allen.

This wasn’t quite the expected outcome. He had planned to play a few rounds of poker with the boy, make him loose up and build some trust. Maybe find out what his plans were, figure out how he was doing.

Perhaps share the bed instead of having one or the other stay on the worn down sofa that sits on the corner of the room opposite the bed.

* * *

Tyki decides to take a trip to get some supplies for Allen (toothbrush, food, water…), making sure no Akuma dared to intrude in the space he’d secured for himself in the inn. He comes back to find his guest still fast asleep; so he decides to put out what he’s brought, making sure to leave a bottle of water on the nightstand that’s next to the bed.

It isn’t long before he hears movement, bedsheets rustling. Tyki doesn’t bother looking over his shoulder as he keeps putting the things out of the bag and into the small coffee table that’s next to the chair.

“Did a bad dream wake you up, boy?” He teases, and receives only a small groan as an answer. “Don’t try to push yourself too hard. Go back to sleep.”

When he turns to face him, the silver eyes that look up at him harbor questions that don’t take long before being voiced out.

“Why are you being so kind, Tyki?”

“I told you earlier, did I not?”

“But _why._ This could easily be seen as treason by the Earl.”

Tyki huffs at that, waving a hand and ignoring whatever truth lies within those words. “The Count wouldn’t deny me some fun, I’m sure.”

The smile on Walker is almost teasing as he pushes himself into a sitting position. “Fun, with an Exorcist? That usually involves bloodshed when it comes to the Noah.”

“Ah. That it does.”

Allen’s eyes track his movements as he goes to perch himself on the foot of the bed, taking his deck of cards from his pockets and starting to shuffle them. Golden eyes fix themselves on the card's movement, trying to keep notice of where they are going, hoping to turn the tables this time and win against the cheating shark that is Allen Walker. 

“But right now I’m looking for a more tame fun.”

Tyki looks at the boy from under his bangs, having lost his ponytail before going for his trip. He smiles up to him, shuffling the cards once more before he starts dealing them.

It’s a game of wits he’s engaged in. Not only on the account of counting the cards, but on thinking ahead of the other's movements and hope to get a better hand.

He produces a cigarette and match, looking at Allen in a silent question. He receives a noncommittal shrug and he lights his smoke.

It starts innocent enough, with Tyki undermining his own ability to give Allen a false sense of security. They make idle chat as the game progresses, and Tyki can’t help but observe the casual smile on the boy, as if there’s nothing to worry about. As if all that mattered now was what was happening. He looks like he’s enjoying himself and the game. And of course he would, having won so far.

Tyki has an ace under his sleeve, though, and he doesn’t intend to play the fool for long. He’ll drop the act as soon as he’s won this.

“If I win this one, will you answer me one question?” Tyki offers, mind already racing at how to formulate the question.

He wants information about The Fourteenth, and he’s sure to attain it if the other takes the bait. The boy simply throws him an off-hand smile. Tyki’s teeth nibble on the cigarette he holds between his lips, irked by the lack of commitment in the answer.

“If I win,” the boy replies, eyes glinting with something that makes Tyki’s insides twist, “will you submit to my will this one night?”

It's how its phrased that has Tyki riled up. But he keeps himself as guarded as he can, keeping his poker face. He chances a challenging smile towards the boy.

His cigarette is about to burn out, and he’d already gotten bored by the drag of the game, too unnerved by the laid back smile that doesn’t seem to leave Allen’s face. It’s almost as if he were toying with Tyki, as if he assumed he had him were he wanted to. And Tyki wasn’t about to be let himself be underestimated by the likes of _him_ of all people.

Mr. Runaway was about to learn the poker face he wore now no longer fooled Tyki — hadn’t done so ever since the game began.

Tyki lets his cigarette burn out as the game ends.

“Straight flush.” Tyki announces, rather bitterly for the win he knows he’s collected.

Walker seems surprised for a moment before he shows his own cards. “Ah, so that’s where my ace of hearts went.”

The hand he shows is not bad — _full house of 3 aces and 2 kings_ —, but it doesn’t come close to beat Tyki’s. The Noah of Pleasure lets a smirk play on his features, a sharpness to his eyes.

As Allen goes to reach for the cards to shuffle them again, Tyki intercepts it, a firm grip on his wrist.

Their eyes meet at that, and Tyki feels an electrifying sensation at the contact. His fingers tingle where they hold the Parasitic Innocence, and he fights back the hate that starts gaining momentum within him. He doesn’t know where it comes from, by now used to Walker’s Innocence, but he can only take a guess and pin it to Joyd’s emotions.

“The Fourteenth, I assume?”

It’s out of politeness that he asks, but seeing Walker’s eyes widen by a fraction as his expression morphs to that of puzzlement makes him want to break the wrist he’s holding. How dare _he_ take him for an idiot. His gaze turns cold and unforgiving as he awaits an answer.

“It’s Allen.”

“Really? The brat would have never lost against me. Not against a straight flush. He plays to win, he’s said so himself.” Tyki argues, and the hurt that flashes on the grey eyes of the young Exorcist makes him lose his pose for a moment, fingers digging into the Innocence in what ought to be painful, but it doesn’t elicit anything but a glare from Walker.

“I had bad luck.”

“The game has never been about luck.”

Steely eyes don’t budge from whatever pretense the traitor Noah has decided to adopt, but Tyki is no idiot, and he knows the small mannerisms of the boy by now, enough to notice a difference when compared to the Allen who he had been playing with. Tyki chuckles at the poor attempt of disguising himself as the Exorcist he’s come to known, and gives him another chance to drop the act by his own will.

“I’ll repeat myself: The Fourteenth, I assume?”

The snicker that escapes pale lips sickens him to his core, and more so the twisted smile that follows. Very much like a Noah’s.

“When did you realize?” Asks the cold voice of The Fourteenth, all pretenses dropped.

“Ever since you woke up.”

A questioning brow is raised his way, a taunting gleam in silver eyes now turned gold.

“The boy was exhausted. He obviously trusted me enough to fall asleep on my presence. It makes no sense for him to wake up so early.” To make it clear that the impostor in front of him was no Allen Walker, he adds, “And the bloodlust you exude is stupidly thick.”

He doesn’t say that though he has seen Allen angry before, to the point he took on Tyki seriously back in the Ark — _when Tyki had threatened the lives of his friends as well as Allen’s with no remorse_ — and to the point he showed hatred towards the Earl for messing with Alma and that swordsman, he has never really shown bloodlust unprovoked. He knows Walker’s too soft at heart to hit it off the bat with negative emotions charged the way the impostor had.

“Guilty as charged, I guess.” The Fourteenth admits, loop-sided smirk showing some teeth. The fact he remains unfazed makes Tyki’s anger all the more prominent. “I’m surprised by how well you know Walker here. Endearing, almost, how you seem to know him to a T.”

Tyki lets go of the Innocence he’d been holding, the contact seeming to burn as he throws the cursed hand back to its owner.

He shrugs, taking importance off the topic. “He’s my enemy. I ought to know him. We’ve fought enough and walked away from the battle. It’d be a shame if I didn’t know him to a certain degree.”

He closes his eyes as he tries to tame the Noah Memory that’s been stirring within him. Joyd seems to be in a frenzy by having The Fourteenth on close quarters, a desire to spill blood itching under his fingers. He doesn’t know where that comes from, but he ignores it to the best of his abilities, the unwarranted Memory’s emotions stifling him, urging him to act on a murderous impulse he doesn’t welcome. He goes fishing for another cigarette and match to distract himself.

“Know each other?” The Fourteenth Noah asks, mocking. “Walk away alive? Don’t make me laugh, Joyd. You’ve never been the type to have a soft spot for your enemies. Less of all for someone like the boy.”

Tyki can’t help the annoyance that washes over him as his Noah name is used by the traitor; for his part, Joyd seems only more pressed to overcome Tyki’s ego.

“Though, I guess you’ve always… had a soft spot for _me_ , Joyd.”

It’s not only the insinuating tone used that has Tyki’s eyes snapping open, but the warm touch that brushes against his cheek. It’s light, the touch, before it becomes firm as the human hand cradles his cheek almost lovingly. When had the other crawled to his hands and knees, too close for comfort? Tyki’s breath gets caught on his throat as he looks at the gold eyes ablaze with something he can’t recognize. He short-circuits for a moment, fingers stuttering amidst his search.

In a more hushed, intimate tone The Pianist continues. “Did you miss me that much, Joyd, that you had to reincarnate in such form?”

Tyki doesn’t know what the hell he is talking about, or why he keeps addressing the Noah Memory within him in a way that makes Tyki feel like a third-wheel. But he can’t seem to focus on the words as his eyes are glued to the boy’s countenance —there’s a softness to it, akin to that he’s seen on Walker. And Tyki wants to lean in and close the space between them. There’s something in those amber eyes that remind Tyki of fondness, but he knows better, knows The Pianist holds a hatred for the Noah. Tyki is probably imagining things.

"Perhaps, you ended up hating me enough. Did you think that much of me in your last moments, that you ended up looking like this?"

The corner of the boy's eyes crease as a seemingly innocent and honest smile stretches his lips, so tantalizing in a way that Tyki can’t explain. The thumb that starts to caress his cheek has him blanking.

“I really wish things had ended differently, Joyd.” The emotion those words carry have Tyki’s mind reeling, recognizing the longing and loss, the melancholy that’s attached to them — _saudade of Joyd_ , he thinks absentmindedly, and before he can react or question The Pianist about it, warm eyes turn cold.

The Fourteenth tilts his head, bangs swaying across his face, demeanor doing a one eighty as if he had not acted with such intimacy that had Tyki floundering for a coherent thought, wondering what exactly had happened between the Third and Fourteenth apostle in their previous incarnations.

"I guess… I’ll show you as much mercy as you’ve shown Allen. He’s my host, after all.”

It’s sickening how he pulls that fake smile, so reminiscent of Walker’s yet so off. It gives Tyki chills just looking at it. It was too predatory and smug that Tyki struggled to keep his punches to himself. It takes all his self control not to retaliate with violence, but The Fourteenth is not satisfied, still poking at Tyki’s patience with calculated words.

“All those times you could have killed him…” The warm touch on his cheek trails up to remove some stray strands, placing them behind Tyki’s ear.

His attention is drawn to those eyes, so similar in shade to Tyki’s. He doesn’t know how to act. Can’t bring himself to move and disengage from the touch that seems to start a fire within him. The smile is too dark for it to feel right on the boy’s features, and Tyki is not fooled that behind it, sharp teeth await to tear at his flesh. But the apparent kindness that comes as the other Noah uses Allen’s face has Tyki drawn to the flame much like a moth.

“Yet you never did. You haven’t. I wonder…” He pauses, hums low as he pretends to think it over. “Don’t tell me you have feelings for Allen Walker?”

Tyki snaps back to reality with that last question, slapping the human hand away from his face. The traitorous Noah had been toying with him all this time, and Tyki had surely made himself a fool by not refusing the advances sooner. He’s quick to mask his emotions behind annoyance. The Fourteenth doesn’t comment on the matter, sitting back on his haunches and awaiting Tyki’s response in amused silence.

Even as this demon’s smile betrays what his words hide, his amber eyes are full of thinly veiled scorn and disgust. Tyki can't handle the attitude anymore, can’t allow himself to remain passive through this onslaught that leaves him no time to gather his thoughts.

He clucks his tongue and pulls out his cigarette, unnerved at how much had he lost himself to the idea of having Allen Walker’s undivided attention, of feeling him close — _of him being tender_.

"Love between a Noah and Exorcist can't happen." He says, thinking back to Road's affections towards Allen when they'd met in the Ark. But even as he repeats those words, he finds a lack of conviction behind them.

"Is that all you have to say?" The Fourteenth answers, knowing smile in place.

It doesn’t escape either how Tyki didn’t respond with a negative to the question.

But Tyki doesn't budge, doesn't want to give the traitor more ammunition. And for all the restlessness of Joyd before, he seems to have calmed down. Tyki wants to be angry at having the spotlight, and takes a drag to distract himself from whatever the hell he's stepped into.

What did it matter if he felt for the boy or didn't? What did it matter that he longed to have him close, see his bright smile? It didn't matter that Tyki longed for the kindness of Allen's heart, that the boy's determination and love for people important to him created awe and jealousy within him. 

What did it matter if his reaction to seeing The Fourteenth's will in Allen Walker's body was so visceral to the point he couldn't deny the emotions he harbored for the boy himself?

It didn't matter.

Love between Noah and Exorcist couldn't exist.

"He's not an Exorcist anymore, you know?" The Fourteenth eggs him on, as if reading his mind. Tyki simply directs him an unamused look, exhaling the smoke directly at him.

He won’t fall in for the obvious bait that’s been laid. Nevertheless, the spoken words linger on the back of his mind, taunting, alluring, urging him to do something about that —preferably before the Noah Memory of The Fourteenth takes control over Allen Walker and Tyki loses all chances, small as they might be.

Tyki’s heart aches painfully at the longing that envelops it, at the thought that he can have Allen Walker for himself.

He hates the traitor Noah for giving him hope.

He composes himself and decides to ignore his emotions for now, unable to stand them anymore. "You've yet to answer my question. I won the game, so tell me, Fourteenth, how do you plan to take the Earl's place?"

There's a small laugh that escapes the other's lips, and a shake of his head is followed by a mirthful tone.

"I already answered your _one_ question. I am The Fourteenth."

Tyki wants to give him snark for it. Because that's such an underhanded move to pull, and it makes Tyki's blood boil at the game he's playing. It makes him unreasonably angry that, as much as he wants to smack the attitude out of the Noah, he can't do so without harming his host. He had promised Allen a break from it all, and he wasn't a man to easily break his promises.

"Won't you amuse me, Fourteenth?" Tyki says, taking out the cigarette from his lips and unceremoniously letting the ashes fall to the floor. "Do you really want to kill the Earl? When you accomplish that, what will you do? Why have you kept yourself hidden so far? When did you _truly_ awaken within Allen Walker? Why not overtake the boy already? Is obvious your Memory is strong enough to even push his will to the back of your mind. Not for a second has that smile been sincere.”

Tyki knows he's thrown the line to the ocean with the possibility of none of his bait being taken, but he _aches_ to know, and no matter how hard he tries to bring Joyd's memory back from his previous incarnation, he can't seem to access that part of his Noah Memory. It frustrates Tyki more than it should.

“Moreover,” he says, and he can’t help the grin forming in his lips, can’t help the gleam in his eyes, the need to return the jabs back, “what kind of relationship did you share with Joyd’s previous incarnation? Don’t tell me _you loved him_ , now, I’d only laugh. Do I remind you of him, Fourteenth?”

But the answer he gets is not born out of anger nor irritation, but amusement. “I’d be the one laughing, Joyd, after all you look so —” Tyki leans in forward on the slightest, eager to find more about the elusive Fourteenth Noah, eager to be able to use the other’s emotions against him like he’d done with Tyki’s emotions for Walker “— _pathetic_. But don’t get any funny ideas, _Third_ , whatever happened between me and Joyd is none of your business.”

Tyki feels himself twitch at that, frustration stoking as he can’t help but admit that he is wandering in the dark here. He lacks any proper information on the other apart from his motives regarding the Earl, and some of his previous actions. None of what he’s been let on has helped him quench his thirst for answers, rather rising more questions and more confusion.

“You could have fooled me.” Tyki retorts, eyes flickering to the human hand that had previously held his cheek tenderly. His stomach rolls with disgust at that, anger flashing in his eyes at the moment of delusion he’d allowed himself — much as the affectionate actions had managed to make him forget about The Fourteenth’s hatred towards the Noah, it didn’t erase the fact it had been The Musician speaking directly to Joyd and not Walker speaking to Tyki. “You really seemed chummy a moment ago, almost _loving_.”

The Fourteenth sneers at that and rolls his eyes; shifting his position, crossing his legs and leaning back his weight on the palm of his hands. He lets his head fall back, neck exposed. As if Tyki couldn't reach over and snap it if he so wanted.

But he doesn't want to, and he's painfully aware both know that.

“I don’t feel like amusing you. _But_ , I will let you in on a bit of information. I’m just that charitable.” The Fourteenth speaks, head tilting to allow Tyki to see the devilish glint in his eyes and the twisted smug smirk. “You asked me when had I truly awakened in Allen…”

Tyki’s hand stops mid-way to his mouth, the cigarette forgotten as his attention goes to the Noah in front of him. He frowns on the slightest, trying to think why, of all questions, that was the one The Fourteenth had decided to answer.

“Ever since the Ark, thanks to you.”

_Fuck you,_ Tyki thinks bitterly —he wants to cuss him out, heart throbbing at the words. It takes him a second to take a hold on the emotions fleeting through him. He’s sure the aggravation etched on his features only serves to amuse the traitor Noah further, noticeable in the way his smirk widens.

He can’t help the coldness that seizes him at the words, at the idea that he was a key component on allowing the demon before him to wake up. He can’t help the unrestrained frustration of it all.

He glares back at the other with unfiltered rage and bitterness, and he hates to see the blatant amusement painted in the traitor’s features. Tyki feels revulsion upon seeing it, for more than one reason now.

Tyki doesn’t know how to react to what he’s been told — _or rather, how should he do so, if he should at all_ — because he isn’t sure he can trust the words that come from the traitor's mouth. But whether or not he can trust the other’s words, it doesn’t diminish the visceral reaction he has to them. 

There’s just nothing Tyki can say to that, but he hates himself and the other Noah for the way his stomach had lurched at the drop of information. Had he really been the cause for Allen Walker's current predicament? Had he really awakened the Noah Memory in the boy? He shakes his head as he lets a troubled smile sit on his lips, eyes falling close as he tries to stop the conflicted emotions that have arisen within him unbidden.

He has to nip the guilt that tries to swallow him, telling himself there’s no way to it. How could it be, anyway? The Memory would have awoken within Allen sooner or later, and he doesn’t think he’s done anything to accelerate the process. If anything, it had been that swordsman’s Innocence going through Walker’s body — sure, a plan he had partaken in but he refuses to acknowledge his part on that at the moment.

Tyki huffs, looking in annoyance at the cigarette between his fingers, now mushed and bent. Putting it out against the sole of his shoe, he lets it tumble down to the bed before fetching another.

This wasn’t what he had signed himself for.

He looks back to those predatory yellow eyes that have yet to focus on something that isn’t him, a thought that makes him shiver — this was a game that was no longer fun, not when the one being played was him.

“Don’t joke with me now, _traitor._ ” And all his hate, all his scorn and disgust goes into that last utterance, jaw set and teeth clenched.

The Pianist chuckles lightly and pushes himself forward, hunching over in the slightest. Tyki doesn’t appreciate the closeness that that generates.

“Well, I have always been there, lurking beneath the surface.” He admits, shrugging his shoulders to lessen the importance to that. The information isn’t anything new, it holds true for all Noah. “But when our beloved Allen went above and beyond in his synchronization, I was finally drawn above the surface. Can you guess who pushed him to that, Joyd?” The Noah of Pleasures denies him an answer and frowns. “Ah. Poor Walker, loosing consciousness, allowing me to surface even if for a split second.” The somber look that comes to the third apostle’s face doesn’t deter him. “I will admit that seeing that loathsome awakening of _yours_ only brought more clarity to my memories. Can’t believe you’d let yourself be consumed by Joyd. Pitiful.”

The scars on Tyki’s body ache at the painful memory. The sensation of being cut with the Sword of Exorcism of Walker one he hasn’t been able to forget and makes his skin crawl with discomfort to this day.

The Fourteenth regards him for a moment, before he jeers, unrestrained. "But that face, Joyd, oh, now, that’s something to laugh about.” He shakes his head, as if he finds it too funny to properly finish his line of thought.

Tyki pretends it doesn’t hurt. He pretends that the demon in front of him using Walker’s face doesn’t have an impact on him. That hearing such venomous words filled with derision tumble out of Allen’s lips —so unlike the kind boy he knows— has no effect on him.

“Want to hear something funnier?” His eyes sharpen the way a predator’s would at the sight of prey, and Tyki shudders. He’s not given an option to answer as an unpleasant expression crosses The Fourteenth’s face. “You tearing a hole through Allen’s heart was the first step — feeling the Innocence heal him — _heal me_ —, made my hatred surface the way nothing else before did.”

Tyki barks out a dry laugh. The words pain him as much as his exorcism had, even if he refuses to show it. But for all it hurts to hear it, he can’t help but find the bitter irony funny. How come his actions came to bite him in the ass when all he wanted now was for the boy to find some sort of peace, short-lived as it might be. And for all he might be thinking, for all the hate that’s rearing its ugly head, Tyki can’t help but forfeit the fight. It’s tiresome. He's lost. He’s done irreparable damage that can’t be mended even if he tried.

“You really are a nasty one, Fourteenth.”

The silence that follows is charged with tension, and Tyki can’t help but fix his gaze to the other’s face, observant of it.

He realizes there’s not even the faintest trace of Walker's usual kindness, and he can’t help but worry for the boy.

Back when Tyki and Road had broken him out of the Order’s chains and Apocryphos’ closing grip, Tyki had told Walker to work things out with The Fourteenth. At the moment, it had been an attempt to soothe the wound he’d opened. Tyki had been enraged and frustrated at the boy’s lack of cooperation, at his desire to remain an Exorcist in spite of the treatment he had suffered under his so venerated Order. In the heat of it, the Noah of Pleasure had spoken words too sharp for his liking —truthful as they might be, he often found himself wishing he could go back and express his thoughts differently.

Tyki had been angry that Allen still saw him as a monster — and maybe Tyki was one, but he had hoped that by then, Walker had recognized and acknowledged the way Tyki held himself around him. He had thought the boy knew him better by now.

Even Road had commented on the matter, calling out Tyki’s softness and unusual interest for the boy that seemed to go beyond whatever miracle the Parasitic Innocence had performed, and beyond whatever relation he had with The Musician.

_You treat him like family_ , Road had told him at one point, and Tyki couldn’t deny the statement, had simply shrugged his shoulders and answered that the boy was interesting. Allen Walker was resilient, and courageous, and a self-sacrificing fool that no doubt would be in need of a support system if he cut ties with the Black Order. _You care for him too much, Tyki_ , Road had berated him, but at the moment Tyki hadn’t paused to think of how much did he really care for Allen. How much he longed to have Walker by his side, be able to hold a casual conversation, have no ill feelings between them.

“He doesn’t hate you, you know?”

The soft-spoken words pull him back to the present, and Tyki arches one brow towards the other Noah.

“Allen. He doesn’t hate you.”

Tyki lets a loop-sided smile tug at his lips, curious at the change of pace. “And you’re telling me because…?”

“He won’t say it up front. Surprisingly enough, Allen seems to see you with fondness, in spite of all you’ve done. I am curious to know _why_.”

Tyki hums in acknowledgment, but doesn’t let his guard down.

“I find the relationship between you two interesting, I guess. Why would Allen ever consider you something beyond an enemy, I still don’t know. Did you have such a strong impression when you first met that Allen still wants to save you? Is it the guilt for failing to exorcise the Noah in you? Perhaps something… else?”

Tyki scoffs at that, disregarding the words of the other, ignoring the warmth on his chest at the thought of possibilities.

"And, I believe you were the one to give him the foolish idea of trying to understand me. Right?”

Tyki’s eyes narrow as he tries to figure out The Fourteenth. He can’t yet understand what his way of thinking is. Carefully, he asks, “So what if I did suggest that?”

A grateful smile graces Walker’s lips, a shadow flashing through amber eyes. “Thank you. Allen Walker is but a fool blinded by hope.” The Fourteenth says, and Tyki’s puzzled by the wording, by the thanks.

Something clicks into place and he lunges for the boy, pulling at his shirt and bringing him close to his face, anger oozing from him. Before he can stop himself, he finds himself speaking with a dire tone, an unknown emotion akin to desperation seizing him for the briefest of moments.

“Don’t you _dare_ let this traitor win, Allen.”

“Perhaps it was fate we met this way, Joyd.” The Fourteenth speaks calmly, and the left palm that lays against Tyki’s chest freezes his outrage for a moment, instincts acting up at the obvious threat. “A shame our hosts’ egos turned the way they did, eh?”

And Tyki’s had it. Of being brushed aside as if he wasn’t there, of The Fourteenth addressing the Noah Memory within him, addressing Joyd instead of him. He is _not_ invisible, and he is his own person as much as Allen Walker is.

“The name’s Tyki, bastard, it isn’t that hard to say.”

The Pianists remains unfazed, and Noah’s Pleasure’s eyes bore down on him, as if trying to elicit a reaction.

But from the moment Tyki Mikk decided to engage him in conversation and in a game, The Pianist had never had any intention of letting the Noah of Pleasure play the game according to his wishes —if Mikk decided to play, he’d be bound by The Musician’s rules. Getting the third apostle riled up was almost too easy, and he couldn’t help but wonder if it was due to the hate the Noah Memory harbored against him or if it was due to the emotions Tyki harbored to Allen.

“Oh, really?” He leans in closer towards Tyki to the point he can feel the agitated breath fan over his face. “It doesn’t matter the name once you are all dead. But more importantly —” his tone turns dark and cold, crowding Tyki as he lets his forehead push against the older Noah’s, eyes burning with the hatred that overcomes him “— my name is not The Fourteenth, as you riff-raff have taken a liking to call me.”

“Yeah? I never caught your name, sorry. Mind enlightening me, _Fourteenth_?”

“As if I’d tell the likes of you.”

They stare each other down, the dislike for the other palpable in the room.

Tyki shows his teeth as he prepares to strike. He’s not the only one that can throw underhanded punches. “Well now, little _brother_ —”

If Tyki ducks, it’s as a reflex. If the bedside lamp that was hurled his way passes through him, it's thanks to his powers. The surprise in his face quickly turns into a triumphant and mocking expression as he looks back at dangerous gold eyes.

“Don’t you _dare_ put me on equal ground as you lot. I’m not your family, and you aren’t mine.”

Much as he wants to deny it, the voice of The Fourteenth containing a sharp threat has Tyki’s skin crawling and stomach tying itself in knots. The no-nonsense voice activating his fight or flight response for a moment; muscles tense and he is ready to jump and fight the boy in any second.

Oddly enough, The Fourteenth doesn’t get physical. He seems to keep his temper in check, resorting only to verbal abuse — for now, at least.

An easy-going expression erases the one of hatred in The Fourteenth, and the light laugh that leaves him unnerves Tyki.

“I’d kill you if I could.” Tyki breathes hotly against the other’s face, tightening his grip, thinking the other is mocking him yet again — like he’s done so far. The Fourteenth wraps his own hands over Tyki’s wrists, squeezing.

“Oh, but you can.” A shit eating grin has Tyki grinding his teeth together. “You could kill me now, come on, Tyki. Tear apart the heart you’ve failed to destroy once.” His sneer only deepens as he narrows his eyes, smug smile showing teeth as he lets the full blow of his next words hit the Noah of Pleasure, “Just be careful to not destroy yours in the process.”

“ _Fuck you_.” Tyki hisses, before shoving the other away. “Give me Allen back, traitor.”

“He’s not yours.”

“Neither yours.”

“It’s a matter of time, in my case.”

Tyki shakes with anger, hands trembling as he lets them curl into fists. He bites his tongue to keep himself from saying anything else. He’s too emotionally involved in this, he knows; The Fourteenth knows, enjoying the edge he has on him and making full use of it.

“I really hope you don’t let this ass overcome your will, Allen Walker.” Tyki says through gritted teeth, not holding back his distaste for The Fourteenth.

“You’re an interesting one, Tyki Mikk.” The Musician says, pensive, eyes glazing over in the slightest as if his focus had shifted. His eyelashes fluttered and he shakes his head. “You know, for being Noah’s Pleasure you sure are holding back.” A yawn escapes him, and his eyelids fall as drowsiness starts to overcome him, his body’s exhaustion catching up to him. “I hope we don’t kill each other any time soon, I look forward to seeing Allen interact with you. I wonder what fate has in store for us, Tyki, Joyd.”

“Not much for someone like you, Fourteenth. Now let him rest.”

“Ouch, do you doubt me, Tyki? Think I can’t easily take over Allen whenever I want?” He asks, but it’s obvious that he’s losing a battle against his own body, tired smile in place as he regards Tyki with half-lidded eyes.

“Why haven’t you, then? What, is Allen giving you trouble?”

The Fourteenth laughs, and he leans back to rest against the headboard, closing his eyes. “You keep calling him, but it won’t matter once I awaken. Allen Walker will cease to exist when I say so.” He open his eyes to look at Tyki’s expression. He can’t help but find amusing how determined it looks, how defiant. Whatever faith Tyki Mikk has placed on Allen, he can’t help but find endearing in the slightest. A Noah falling for an Exorcist, such a joke, really. “Do take care of this body in the mean time, though.” He starts nodding off, and continues in a more subdued tone, voice soft as if all the razor-sharp words he’d spoken so far were but in Tyki’s imagination. “Next time… I won’t be so lenient.”

Tyki holds his gaze, and his rancor for The Fourteenth dies, softness etching itself on his features. He can see the exhaustion on Allen Walker’s features clearly, even as those golden eyes linger on him. For all The Fourteenth had played him, he can’t bring himself to be mad when the soft features of the boy are looking back at him — he can’t, not when the cover he’d kept to his emotions had been pulled. For that, he’s half-heartedly thankful. Much as he’d ignored his emotions, there was no way he would continue to do so when his worry for the boy was evident, when his longing increases for every second Allen Walker stays away from his life.

Tyki will figure something out, he’s sure. As long as Allen Walker keeps fighting, he will too.

He reaches his hand towards the other, and holds his scarred cheek. “Don’t make me look like a fool, boy. Fight him in your own way. You have people who are awaiting you. People who care for you and you care about. Show Apocryphos, Crown Clown, The Fourteenth — show us all how strong you really are.”

The Noah of Pleasure refuses to believe The Fourteenth’s words. Refuses to believe that Allen Walker could disappear at the drop of a hat, only existing because the Fourteenth willed it so. Not that he had any reason to doubt him, but he refused to give up on Allen Walker. If people in the Black Order and the Noah had already, Tyki wasn’t willing to follow suit. There was so much to Allen Walker that Tyki had yet to experience, and he knew that the boy’s light wouldn't be snuffed easily — _he knew from experience, after all—_ less of all without a good fight, a good performance.

The smile that pulls at Walker’s lips is bitter, and The Fourteenth looks at him with curiosity in his eyes. Sighing, he lets his eye fall close, leaning into Tyki’s touch. “ _You really care, huh?_ ”

_More than I’m willing to admit_ , Tyki thinks to himself, bidding a silent goodbye to The Fourteenth for the moment.

Inevitably, a conflicting emotion arises within him. While the traitor had rubbed Tyki the wrong way during this interaction, he couldn’t turn a blind eye to the predicament of it. His yearning for Allen would inherently implicate The Fourteenth’s presence. Much as he had hopes and trust in Allen overcoming The Fourteenth’s will, Tyki knew that wouldn’t completely eliminate the Memory within him. The Fourteenth would always lurk inside Allen’s mind as much as Joyd did inside his. There was also the fact that he was a traitor and a threat to the Noah and Earl — but he is too tired to start dwelling on that at the moment.

Rubbing his face in frustration, Tyki heaves in exacerbation.

Well, if Allen was willing to work things through with the monsters dwelling within him, Tyki was willing too.

For Allen Walker, Tyki would do the unimaginable. If it meant coming to understand and accept The Fourteenth, then so be it. He’d do that and more to see the boy smile again.

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhh, this is finally done! At least I can say that it isn't a WIP anymore :'). Fair warning: this one was one hell of a story to work with. It was fun and daring and frustrating at times, but I enjoyed myself nonetheless. There were so many ideas that took my interest here (I'm sure you can tell, haha); I had to stop myself from exploring them all in depth, lest I get overwhelmed ;x;.
> 
> Please let me know what you think of this work! What part piqued your interest? What thread did you hope I explored further? Did you think Nea was a bit of a jerk? Did you think I could have executed X or Y better this or that way? Should I have stuck with one topic instead of having a rollercoaster of them?
> 
> Let me know your thoughts, and as always, hope you enjoyed reading this!


End file.
